Questions Best Left Unanswered
by eoraptor
Summary: Follow up story to "Unanswered Questions." When you leave behind your life, you leave a lot behind. And now Miriam Viable must come to terms with that, even if she's not happy with the consequences. T for mild language and innuendo.


_**"Questions Best Left Unanswered"**_

_By Eoraptor_

**_This story follows "Unanswered Questions," if you have not read that, it will not make much sense._**

**Boring but important legal stuff:** Kim Possible and all related characters are property of the Walt Disney Corporation ©2002-2007. Redistribution of this text for profit or without the author's consent is prohibited.

**More boring but important stuff: **This publication is rated by the author as T for Teen for violence and adult themes. If you can't handle this type of material or it is illegal where you are located, don't complain to me or the site admin this document is posted on, JUST DON'T READ IT!

* * *

Shego took one look at the contents of the email, and groaned, "Oh… HELL NO!"

After a moment, she added an addendum, "Abso-fucking-lutely not!"

And then, "I am NOT inserting myself into that circus, not again!"

And proceeded to close the email.

A few days later, a second email, from a "supposedly" different sender and address. Same question, but this time with the promise of payment.

Again the retired mercenary deleted with extreme prejudice.

The third one was automatically caught and deleted by a sophisticated filter.

However, a fourth email managed to evade the filters. This put Shego over the edge, "Well Crap! Gonna have to go to Canada and tune a bitch up."

Once again, Shego headed for Lake Ontario. Once again, she booked passage on a Panamax freighter headed up the seaway. Once again it cost her a couple grand from the royalties to her memoirs. Once more, she went ashore in Quebec, rented a car, and headed for a boring little lake town. She again did it on a scheduled "rehersal" night for Théâtre de l'Esprit.

That's where things stopped being "once again" and became almost entirely new and different. The first difference caught Shego as she was about to let herself in the unlocked window abutting the old wrought-iron fire escape built above the hardware store.

Her thief senses tingled right as she reached for the unlocked double-pane sash window.

Sure enough, on a second, closer examination, she caught sight of nigh-invisible plastic monofilaments set in the sash track. Each slid up the window where they presumably disappeared into electronic tension sensors. Likewise, in one corner of each pain, disguised with "accidental" over-paint marks, were small harmonic sensors which would register if the glass was smashed in or even scored and cut.

Huffing, the ex-villainess studied the improvements for a few minutes. Finding no way from the outside to circumvent the security devices, Shego dismounted the fire escape and headed around to the access door at street level.

No security devices here, just a passage lock and a slat-style deadbolt which she quickly picked. Inside she paused, ingrained senses tingling. She saw, on the floor just inside, an electronic eye. Fortunately she hadn't opened the door far enough to trip it. A quick scan revealed no other eyes on the landing, so she braced herself, and snaked along the opened door, resting a hand on the banister and then using it as a pivot to evade the beam in the narrow space.

She found no more beams the rest of the way up, but she was getting a bit concerned. The last time she'd been here, it had been nothing to walk right into "Mim's" apartment.

Sure enough, at the top of the stairs, she found two doors. One she knew opened into Mim's apartment. The other apparently opened into another adjoining apartment, with which she was not concerned. A brief glance at the door revealed more countermeasures. The lock and door looked casual enough, but Shego was not fooled.

A quick survey revealed that the old doorknob's cylinder had been bored out and replaced with a much more upscale lock set. The deadbolt was new entirely. She couldn't tell through the door jamb, but she bet it was at least two inches long, enough to transcend the door frame and bolt right into the timber of the building. But here, at least, were no electronic countermeasures.

"Shit!" she growled, because she had almost been fooled as she knelt to work over the lock.

Engraved into the doorknob's new guts were the tiniest of symbols, barely visible; a wireless radio insignia. Obviously its key had some kind of passive chip. So no cheap knockoff key would open the lock, and most likely neither would a pick.

Well, there was only one thing for it.

Concentrating, Shego held her hand up to the lock set. An invisible wave emanated from her hand, and she heard the magnetic locking mechanism inside go slack with a click. She repeated the process on the deadbolt, but heard no such click. Then she proceeded to pick the mechanics of each lock. She again paused, and checked with ever more paranoia, for further countermeasures.

Fortunately, this time, there were none. She seemed to have defeated the last of the new, very high-dollar security mechanisms.

On entering the apartment, the first thing Shego did was turn around. Indeed. The door not only had two new locks, but new hinges. A good thief knew that if you couldn't defeat the door locks, you could always defeat the far-weaker hinges on any door.

Except this one, which had spring-loaded titanium hinges at three points; each of which was, like the deadbolt, long enough to attach directly to the frame of the building hidden behind the drywall. Sure, in a pinch she could just blow the door down; but the average, non-super intruder was likely to be defeated by it short of throwing themselves through the drywall to one side of the door and hoping they didn't electrocute themselves in the process by the plumbing and wiring inside. Pausing, Shego cast her glance to the fire escape window, and briefly wondered if the glass there was in any way smash-resistant as well.

Apparently a lot of things had changed in the year since she'd last been here.

Casting her eyes about the apartment, the thief took in other changes. "Mim's" apartment had also acquired a few more homey touches since her last visit north. Now there were a few photos of herself and some friends; and of herself and some woman who was obviously a bit more than a friend.

A quick glance in the hamper backed that up, as Shego found a bra which was too big to belong to the apartment's owner, unless there had been some more "changes" to her anatomy.

Apparently the "sorta thing" with Becky at the clinic had panned out, or Mim had found herself another "sorta thing." Shego caught herself considering the secretive Canadian's social life and rolled her eyes. She was not here to pay a social call. She was here to dissuade the Canadian from her requests.

A rattle at the door behind her alerted the former thief that the guest of honour had returned, and she quickly did her best to make herself look nonchalant on Mim's couch, as though she had been present for hours.

"Hello Shego,"

"Wha….?"

"Oh please, how many people do you honestly think could, or would want, to get in here without the key?"

"ho.."

"Pressure sensor under the fire escape platform."

"…"

"Didn't think of that, did you? Maybe I was wrong to ask for your help."

"Now wait just a minute!"

"I'll have you know you interrupted practice. The players are not happy to blow dress rehearsal for Mid Summer's Night…"

Shego grit her teeth as the brunette made herself busy shedding her coat and closing the door, pushing some kind of circuit breaker built into the lockset.

"Well, maybe if they knew that their lead actress was a paranoid world heroine who lived inside Fort Knox, they'd be more understanding." She grumbled hotly, crossing her arms with effrontery.

"No," Mim turned, green eyes momentarily hard, "Their lead actress is an orphan who had someone break into her apartment last year, and has a bit of an OCD streak in her. Or do I need to get my gun?"

Shego's eyes narrowed in turn, and she watched the former-redhead's eyes. In an instant, she blasted the side of the recliner, and it's suspiciously heavy remote-control pocket. "No, I don't think that will be necessary."

Mim yelped, and ran to the burning recliner. She spanked out the embers and pulled out the aforementioned firearm. And promptly dropped it as it scalded her hand badly.

"Damn you, Shego!"

"My mother already did that. Now, about your jacked up emails." She rose, hand still ignited, as she advanced on the reclusive heroine.

Mim, the once-upon-a-time Kim Possible, turned to face the mercenary, unfazed by her aggressive stance. "You're here to take the job?"

Mim's answer was a plasma blast she barely ducked. It splashed against the fire escape window, which warped, but did not shatter. Shego filed this fact away and launched an all-out attack on the ex-heroine.

Mim, to her credit ducked, dodged, and evaded in the small confines of the apartment, and even managed to avoid smashing most of her possessions. Shego, however, was more relentless than she had been in the past.

The fight ignited something primal in her, something she had not felt in over two years. Every swipe got hotter, every claw strike snapped faster from her wrist, every kick became more back-breaking.

"Fight Back Damn You!" she growled hotly as the once-redhead weaved and ducked, but did not return fire.

And then Shego was on her back, wind knocked form her chest. She'd never seen Mim manage to get behind her, kick her in the small of the back, and then bodyslam her into the coffee table.

"hu- hu- huuuuuu" she panted and gargled.

The brunette looked around the chaos in her apartment, growling at the warped window glass, the smashed coffee table, and the burned recliner. She groaned, rubbing her face. "You know, a simple 'No' in an email would have been sufficient."

"N- na.. nuuuuu." The felled mercenary panted raspily, attempting to form words past her aggrieved lungs.

Finally, she closed her eyes, concentrating her energies inwards. She shuddered as she felt bruised, stretched tissue in her back, muscle between her ribs, slowly tug itself back in to its proper shape and tension as her powers worked their magic. Moaning, and rolling out of the smashed remnants of the coffee table, she looked up at Miriam Viable.

"No. Fuck No. A thousand times screw you."

"I didn't know you cared that deeply, Shego." the deeply tanned Canadian rolled her eyes sardonically and sat down on the couch.

"I don't. But I am not plunging myself into that media circus. I begin to understand why you did what you did." She spat out a small amount of saliva mixed with blood, the bitten cheek inside her mouth swelling and then reducing.

"And here you thought I was being melodramatic." Mim rolled her forest green eyes and snorted.

"Yeah. I did. Then they came looking for me when 'you' suddenly returned from the dead." Shego stood, stretching her back and rubbing it with gloved hands. "Will you fight her for us? Who is she? Is she stronger than before?"

"Who asked you that?" Miriam inclined her head at the thief who had broken into her solace.

"Criminals, reporters, Betty Director, take your pick."

"So… who is she?" the Canadian asked, shaking her head wearily.

"I don't know, and I don't give a shit."

Mim groaned hotly, rubbing her face again. "Well I do! She's using my name!"

"Uh, no she's not," Shego glared, rolling her eyes, "Your name is Miriam Viable, remember?"

Mim huffed and grumbled beneath her breath. "You know what I mean."

"No I don't!" the thief barked harshly, "You're the one who gave it all up and died! Who cares that someone else wants to be Kim Possible now?!"

"My Family for one?" Mim began angrily ticking off her fingers, "And Ron? And what about all the villains? What happens when they figure out that's not me?"

"You mean the family who thinks you're dead, whom you willingly disowned?" Shego shook her head, shedding broken glass, "The boyfriend who fucked around on you and whom you're now screwing around on from beyond the grave?"

By way of demonstration, the former villainess pulled the picture of Kim and her apparent partner from the rubble of the coffee table. "As to the villains? I think they are shitting themselves. I nearly did, and I know your dirty little secret. They think you're some arc angel, risen to wreak vengeance or some shit."

"But-,"

Mim's protest was cut off when Shego flung the picture at her, making her duck.

"No! No Buts!" She growled angrily, "Guess what, Princess, you don't get to have it both ways! You, as Kim possible, are either dead, or you're not!"

Mim glared angrily, and hurtfully, at the older woman, before huffing, "Fine. Forget I asked, and forget I had to figure out how to avoid your spam filter to do it."

Shego nodded resolutely. She finished brushing debris from herself and looked up, "Now, I don't want to see, OR hear from you again, got it? You're dead, and I've moved on."

"I'll pay you! To stop her!"

"Oh for Christ's Sake!" the mercenary shouted, "No!"

"Yes! How much? How much to stop Kim Possible?!"

Rolling her eyes at the pathetic desperation in the girl's voice, Shego decided to drop a number she was certain Viable couldn't afford, or would at least balk at. "Ten Million."

"I- I don't have that much," the brunette chewed her lip, pouting firmly.

"Yeah, didn't think so." She rolled her eyes, imperiously crossing her arms. "How much do you have, anyway?"

"Um…." Mim chewed her lip, not sure she should admit to the woman who had stolen Ron's Naco check how much she had.

"Spill…"

"or what?"

"Or maybe I'll tell the world the real Kim Possible is alive, and well, and living as an illegal alien in Amqui, Quebec."

"You wouldn't!"

"The fuck I wouldn't! You know how much that knowledge is worth? I could be set for five lifetimes!"

Mim chewed her lip and finally growled hotly. "Fine! I have about three point two million US."

Shego whistled faintly. It was more than she had imagined. After a long moment, she shook her head and sat down on the balanced end of the broken coffee table. "Tell ya what, pay me twenty grand."

"Why?!" Mim snapped angrily, tired of being gamed by her nemesis.

"Because then it will make my trip up here worth the effort." She snorted derisively.

"In return for what? Breaking my shit? I have to replace my gun, my recliner, my coffee table, and my window."

"In exchange for me telling you what I DO know about 'Kim Possible.' Doy." She rolled her unnaturally green eyes.

"…"

"Thirty grand."

"Hey!"

"Price keeps going up the longer you wait. The knowledge does have an expiration date."

"Fine!" Mim barked, and went to pull her cheque book out of her purse.

"Oh, there will be a five thousand dollar handling fee for checks. International baking regs you know."

"Grrrr!"

Miriam Viable scribbled out the check for twenty five grand in US funds and thrust it at Shego, growling, "Now, Spill."

Shego picked up the bank note, and carefully wiped it down, removing Mim's fingerprints before pocketing it.

"Alright, firstly, I know she's not you."

"If that's all you've got, I'm beating my money back out of you."

Shego rolled her eyes and snorted, "As if."

"I beat you last year, and tonight, or do you want to really test me?" the Canadian growled.

"Fine! Sheesh, you need to get laid more often Pumpkin."

"I get it nightly thank you. Speaking of which, spill, I need to clean this place up before Becky comes over, and come up with a convincing cover."

Shego tried not to fall off of her impromptu perch at the news of Viable's apparently rampant lesbianism. After a moment she rose, and igniting her hand, burned a wavering line from the kitchen sink to the recliner. "There. A rat spilled Pinesol under the sink, and it caught fire before you could clean it up. You're lucky your gun didn't explode in the recliner. You were racing home to answer the fire alarm on your cell phone."

The retired heroine looked at the marks, and boggled. It looked exactly like Shego stated. Shaking her head after a moment, she sighed heavily. "Fine… now… do you know anything ELSE about the new Kim Possible?"

"Yeah... She avoids the media like the plague." The merc nodded. "She does, however, look exactly like you, minus being a few inches taller, which the media attributes to either a growth spurt, or whatever caused your apparent 'death.' She also fights almost exactly like you did, right down to that arrogant little hair flip you do when you toss off a one liner. If I didn't know better, I'd swear you trained her yourself."

"How the heck do you know all this if you've been keeping out of it?" the ex-Kim arched a dark brown eyebrow.

"I know my nemesis. And she is good, but she is not you." Shego popped off with equal parts nonchalance and arrogance. "Sooner or later, she'll go after someone else who can also figure that out and I bet her cover will be blown. I also think it's why she's been avoiding my old stomping grounds like Middleton and Go City. Doesn't want me to figure out what I already know."

Mim digested this for several minutes before nodding, "And my family? Ron?"

"Well, they have been mum, but my old friends in the business say they don't know what to do, and want to know why you haven't contacted them. Your friendly blonde monkey cock has been chasing "you" to every mission he and your nerd can identify."

Shego had no idea how she had been smacked, considering that Mim had been sitting on the couch three feet away. Yet the hand print on her face was unmistakable. "How the hell did you do that?"

"Don't call Ron names." was her only response.

"Fine. Keep another secret. That's all I know. She turned up three months ago, saving a bunch of orphans and nun's in school bus from going off a cliff in Old Mexico. I took an interest for about thirty seconds, wondering if you'd come back."

"But?"

"But, I figured you were quite happy with Canadian anonymity to be bothered with just one more busload of brats and bitches." Shego snorted. "…and I also realized that she held her ankle at the wrong angle to be using your version of Crane style. You keep your foot perfectly level with the ground when you strike. Whoever the new Possible is, she is a little bit lazy with her forms."

"Yeah, you know me alright." Mim sighed. She remembered working for months to get that little kink out of that one form kung fu.

"And that is all I know, or care to know. You want to put a hit out on your former self, call someone who cares. I'm retired." Shego rose and moved to exit.

Miriam let her go, and sighed, trying to figure out what to do.

"Sacre crisse!" came a gasp at the door some minutes later, "Mimmy! What has happened?!"

The former Kim Possible's eyes snapped up. She hadn't even heard her lover come in from the clinic while she was digesting what Shego had said.

"Becky!" She gasped, and then looked at the floor, and remembered the cover story Shego had provided, for so much of her damned money. "Um… uh! I don't know, I think something spilled cleaner, and it caught fire, I got here just before it got out of control! Thank god for my security system!"

Rebeqois seized her lover tightly, and held her for several minutes. Then she frowned, looking around, "…and les table basse?"

"Um… I fell, trying to get to the fire."

"Oui." The busty blonde nurse sighed into her paramour's dark mane, holding her, "Well, is all right now. But, quell es that smell?"

Mmim groaned, because she hadn't even realized Shego had left a heady atmosphere of ozone in the small apartment. "Halon fire suppressant."

"Ah, ouis, of course." the blonde simply nodded. "Thank goodness for that tourist who told me not to come up here sooner, or I might have been caught in le terrible incendie."

"Tourist?" Mim leaned back, looking at her lover.

"Bien sûr!" Becky nodded rapidly, "Une femme grande brune qui sentait de votre ... Your Halon."

"Oh!" Mim's brain rapidly translated her girlfriend's stressed French, "Yeah, she helped me when she saw me run into the fire! I… I never caught her name though…"

The ex-Possible decided she owed Shego big time now. But there was still the issue of her doppleganger. Well, one crisis at a time. She had a girlfriend to calm down first. And once again, she did not for one moment question that her lover was blonde with brown eyes and freckles and a weird sense of humor.

* * *

_**AN: Part One of three, Part Two arrives soon. **__And please forgive my French… my own frances is pretty week, so Google Translate had to stand in. _


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